


Before Today

by Larrydrarryklaine



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon, Could be triggering, Crying, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Self-Harm, i guess, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larrydrarryklaine/pseuds/Larrydrarryklaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry never thought he'd have to sit in a hospital waiting room. Especially not with only three of his band-mates surrounding him. Could be triggering. Larry Stylinson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before Today

**Author's Note:**

> This could be triggering, please do NOT read if you think it may make you want to harm yourself.

Before today, if anyone had ever come up to me and said “Louis Tomlinson cuts himself.” I would have laughed in their face. But now, sitting in a hospital waiting room, it doesn’t seem so funny. I glance up from my shoes to look at the faces around me. Zayn’s face is blank, unreadable. But when he catches me looking he lifts the corners of his mouth sadly and wraps an arm around my shoulders. Liam is concerned, all over and inside you can see it. His brow furrowed, his back hunched, his mouth set to what seems to be a perpetual frown. Niall just sits there and squirms. He’s not one to sit and dwell on the bad, he likes to get up and actually do something about it. But this time he can’t. No, this situation if broken far beyond repair.  
  
“Boys?” I stand so fast I nearly break my neck. A nurse in ugly, too bright, scrubs holding a clipboard is standing there, and in that moment it’s like seeing God.  
  
“Is he…?” My voice breaks off and I don’t finish. I don’t have to, we all know.  
  
“Mr. Tomlinson will be making a full physical recovery, yes.” I nearly kiss her. “But,” she says, lifting her hand as if she can sense my excitement. “Self harm is a very serious psychological issue. We’ll need to keep him here for a week or so to recommend him for medication or therapy, perhaps both. It could take months to see results, years maybe. And even then he won’t be cured. He never will be, not really.” I nod, though her words just sort of melt together in my eagerness.  
  
“Can I see him?” I ask.  
  
“Are you family?” She retorts like she knows I’m a shit liar and won’t know how to reply. Luckily I’m not given the chance.  
  
“Brothers.” Zayn says.  
  
“Excuse me?” The nurse peers over my shoulder towards Zayn, one brow lifted and a hand on her hip.  
  
“They’re brothers. His name’s Harry Tomlinson.” I wish.  
  
“Is this true?” She’s looking back at me now.  
  
“Y-yes.” I stutter. She eyes me warily.  
  
“He’s sleeping.”  
  
“I don’t care.” And I don’t. I just want to see him with my own eyes and know he’s really still there. That he’s really still breathing. I just want to see my Boobear.  
  
She looks me up and down before sighing heavily. “Follow me.” She turns and begins making her way down a seemingly endless expanse of pure linoleum. God I hate hospitals. They’re horrible. And it’s even worse to think about Louis being trapped in one. Him having to sleep in a bed someone died in yesterday, separated by a curtain from a dying child.  
  
“Here we are.” The nurse comes to a halt and I realize I can no longer see the lobby and I don’t remember how I got here. “Louis Tomlinson room one-thirty-two.” I shudder slightly at the thought of Louis’ existence being reduced to a number on a clipboard, pushed around from one nurse to another. None of them really caring about him. They should let me be his nurse. I'd be by his side twenty-four seven.  
  
“Thank you.” I say. She nods and walks away. But even though she’s gone and I really do want to see Louis, I can’t get my feet to move. I’m too scared of what’s beyond that wooden door. But I owe it to Louis to do this. So, I swallow my fear and push forward.  
  
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Louis dressed in a hospital gown underneath a turquoise blanket. But that was the last thing I noticed. The first thing I noticed were the scars. So, so many scars all up and down his arms, some older some fresher, some longer some shorter, so shallower some deeper. Deeper, like the ones that got him here. The ones bleeding through layers of gauze and making bile rise in my throat. The ones that dared to try and take my Loubear away from me.  
  
I walk over to him, placing a hand on his forehead and brushing his damp bangs back into place. I felt more than a little stupid doing it but he would’ve wanted me to. Or would he have? Maybe I don’t know Louis nearly as well as I thought I did. This certainly isn’t the Louis I thought I knew. I sigh drearily and pull a chair by his bed. My hand finds its way to his steadily rising chest. Maybe I'm just insane but I'm almost positive that his heartbeat isn’t nearly as strong as it used to be.  
  
I cry for the first time that day, loud, painful sobs that wrack my whole body. But before I lose the ability to speak I whisper to him,  
  
“I’m going to fix this, I promise I’m going to fix you Louis.”  
  
And I swear I see him smile.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
